sk.carrie-第24节

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o。　I　know　I'm　not　。。。　not　really　。。。　but　thank　you　anyway。'
'It's　true；'　Desjardin　said。　'Carrie；　anything　that　happened　before　。。。　well；　it's　all　forgotten。　I　wanted　you　to　know　that。'
'I　can't　forget　it；'　Carrie　said…　She　looked　up。　The　words　that　rose　to　her　lips　were：　I　don't　blame　anyone　any　more。　She　bit　them　off。　It　was　a　lie。　She　blamed　them　all　and　always　would；　and　she　wanted　more　than　anything　else　to　be　honest。　'But　it's　over　with。　Now　it's　over　with。'
Miss　Desjardin　smiled；　and　her　eyes　seemed　to　catch　and　hold　the　soft　mix　of　lights　in　an　almost　liquid　sparkling。　She　looked　across　toward　the　dance　floor；　and　Carrie　followed　her　gaze。
'I　remember　my　own　prom；'　Desjardin　said　softly。　'I　was　two　inches　taller　than　the　boy　I　went　with　when　I　was　in　my　heels。　He　gave　me　a　corsage　that　clashed　with　my　gown。　The　tailpipe　was　broken　on　his　car　and　the　engine　made　。。。　oh；　an　awful　racket　But　it　was　magic；　I　don't　know　why。　But　I've　never　had　a　date　like　it；　ever　again。'　She　looked　at　Carrie。　'Is　it　like　that　for　you？'
'It's　very　nice；'　Carrie　said。
'And　is　that　all？'
'No。　There's　more。　I　couldn't　tell　it　all。　Not　to　anybody。'
Desjardin　smiled　and　squeezed　her　arm。　'You'll　never　forget　it；'　she　said。　'Never。'
'I　think　you're　right。'
'Have　a　lovely　time；　Carrie。'
'Thank　you。'
Tommy　came　up　with　two　Dude　cups　of　punch　as　Desjardin　left；　walking　around　the　dance　floor　toward　the　chaperones'　table。
'What　did　she　want？'　he　asked；　putting　the　Dude　caps　down　carefully。
Carrie；　looking　after　her；　said：　'I　think　she　wanted　to　say　she　was　sorry。'
（momma　untie　your　apron　strings　i'm　getting　big）
and　she　wanted　it　that　way。
'Look；'　he　said　as　they　got　up。
Two　or　three　stagehands　were　sliding　the　King　and　Queen　thrones　from　the　wings　while　Mr　Lavoie；　the　head　custodian；　directed　them　with　hand　motions　toward　preset　marks　on　the　apron。　She　thought　they　looked　quite　Arthurian；　those　thrones；　dressed　all　in　blinding　white；　strewn　with　real　flowers　as　well　as　huge　crepe　banners。
'They're　beautiful；'　she　said。
'You're　beautiful；'　Tommy　said；　and　she　became　quite　sure　that　nothing　bad　could　happen　this　night　…　perhaps　they　themselves　might　even　be　voted　King　and　Queen　of　the　Prom。　She　smiled　at　her　own　folly。
It　was　nine　o'clock。
Sue　Snell　sat　quietly　in　the　living　room　of　her　house；　hemming　a　dress　and　listening　to　the　Jefferson　Airplane　Long　John　Silver　album。　It　was　old　and　badly　scratched；　but　soothing。
Her　mother　and　father　had　gone　out　for　the　evening。　They　knew　what　was　going　on；　she　was　sure　of　that；　but　they　had　spared　her　the　bumbling　talks　about　how　proud　they　were　of　Their　Girl；　or　how　glad　they　were　that　she　was　finally　Growing　Up。　She　was　glad　they　had　decided　to　leave　her　alone；　because　she　was　still　unfortable　about　her　own　motives　and　afraid　to　examine　them　too　deeply；　lest　she　discover　a　jewel　of　selfishness　glowing　and　winking　at　her　from　the　black　velvet　of　her　subconscious。
She　had　done　it；　that　was　enough；　she　was　satisfied。
（maybe　he'll　fall　in　love　with　her）
She　looked　up　as　if　someone　had　spoken　from　the　hallway；　a　startled　smile　curving　her　lips。　That　would　be　a　fairy…tale　ending；　all　right。　The　Prince　bends　over　the　Sleeping　Beauty；　touches　his　lips　to　hers。
Sue；　I　don't　know　how　to　tell　you　this　but
The　smile　faded。
Her　period　was　late。　Almost　a　week　late。　And　she　had　always　been　as　regular　as　an　almanac。
The　record　changer　clicked；　another　record　dropped　down。　In　the　sudden；　brief　silence；　she　heard　something　within　her　turn　over。　Perhaps　only　her　soul。
It　was　nine…fifteen。
Billy　drove　to　the　far　end　of　the　parking　lot　and　pulled　into　a　stall　that　faced　the　asphalt　ramp　leading　to　the　highway。　Chris　started　to　get　out　and　he　jerked　her　back。　His　eyes　glowed　ferally　in　the　dark。
'What？'　she　said　with　angry　nervousness。
'They　use　a　P。A。　system　to　announce　the　King　and　Queen；'　he　said。　Then　one　of　the　bands　will　play　the　school　song。　That　means　they're　sitting　there　in　those　thrones；　on　target。'
'I　know　all　that。　Let　go　of　me。　You're　hurting。'
He　squeezed　her　wrist　tighter　still　and　felt　small　bones　grind。　It　gave　him　a　grim　pleasure。　Still；　she　didn't　cry　out　She　was　pretty　good。
'You　listen　to　me。　I　want　you　to　know　what　you're　getting　into。　Pull　the　rope　when　the　song　is　playing。　Pull　it　hard。　There　will　be　a　little　slack　between　the　pulleys；　but　not　much。　When　you　pull　it　and　feel　those　buckets　go；　run。　You　don't　stick　around　to　hear　the　screams　or　anything　else。　This　is　out　of　the　cute…little…joke　league。　This　is　criminal　assault；　you　know？　They　don't　fine　you。　They　put　you　in　jail　and　throw　the　key　over　their　shoulder。'
It　was　an　enormous　speech　for　him。
Her　eyes　only　glared　at　him；　full　of　defiant　anger。
'Dig　it？'
'Yes。'
'All　right。　When　the…buckets　go；　I'm　going　to　run。　When　I　get　to　the　car；　I'm　going　to　drive　away。　If　you're　there；　you　can　e。　If　youre　not；　I'll　leave　you。　If　I　leave　you　and　you　spill　your　guts；　I'll　kill　you。　Do　you　believe　me'
'Yes。　Take　your　fucking　hand　off　me。'
He　did。　An　unwilling　shadow…grin　touched　his　face。　May。　'It's　going　to　be　good。'
They　got　out　of　the　car。
It　was　almost　nine…thirty。
Vic　Mooney；　President　of　the　Senior　Class；　was　calling　jovially　into　the　mike。。　'All　right；　ladies　and　gennelmen。　Take　your　seats；　please。　Ifs　time　for　the　voting。　We're　going　to　vote　for　the　King　and　Queen。'
'This　contest　insults　women！'　Myra　Crewes　called　with　uneasy　good　nature。
'It　insults　men；　too！'　George　Dawson　called　back；　and　there　was　general　laughter。　Myra　was　silent。　She　had　made　her　token　protest。
'take　your　seats；　please！'　Vic　was　smiling　into　the　mike；　and　blushing　furiously；　fingering　a　pimple　on　his　chin。　The　huge　Venetian　boatman　behind　him　looked　dreamily　over　Vic's　shoulder。　'Time　to　vote。'
Carrie　and　Tommy　sat　down。　Tina　Blake　and　Norma　Watson　were　circulating　mimeographed　ballots；　and　when　Norma　dropped　one　at　their　table　and　breathed　'Good　LUCK！'　Carrie　picked　up　the　ballot　and　studied　it。　Her　mouth　popped　open。
'Tommy；　we're　on　here！'
'Yeah；　I　saw　that；'　he　said。　'The　school　votes　for　single　candidates　and　their　dates　get　sort　of　shanghaied　into　it。　Wele　aboard。　Shall　we　decline？'
She　bit　her　lip　and　looked　at　him。　'Do　you　want　to　decline？'
'Hell；　no；'　he　said　cheerfully。　'If　you　win；　an　you　do　is　sit　up　there　for　the　school　song　and　one　dance　and　wave　a　sceptre　and　look　like　a　goddam　idiot。　They　take　your　picture　for　the　yearbook　so　everyone　can　see　you　look　like　a　goddam　idiot。'
'Who　do　we　vote　for？'　She　looked　doubtfully　from　the　ballot　to　the　tiny　pencil　by　her　boatful　of　nuts。　'They're　more　your　crowd　than　mine。'　A　chuckle　escaped　her。　'In　fact；　I　don't　really　have　a　crowd。'
He　shrugged。　'Let's　vote　for　ourselves。　To　the　devil　with　false　modesty。'
She　laughed　out　loud；　then　clapped　a　hand　over　her　mouth。　The　sound　was　almost　entirely　foreign　to　her。　Before　she　could　think；　she　circled　their　names；　third　from　the　top。　The　tiny　pencil　broke　in　her　hand；　and　she　gasped。　A　splinter　had　scratched　the　pad　of　one　finger；　and　a　small　bead　of　blood　welled。
'You　hurt　yourself？'
'No。'　She　smiled；　but　suddenly　it　was　difficult　to　smile。　The　sight　of　the　blood　was　distasteful　to　her。　She　blotted　it　away　with　her　napkin。　'But　I　broke　the　pencil　and　it　was　a　souvenir。　Stupid　me。'
‘There's　your　boat；'　he　said；　and　pushed　it　toward　her。　'Toot；　toot。'　Her　throat　closed；　and　she　felt　sure　she　would　weep　and　then　be　ashamed。　She　did　not；　but　her　eyes　glimmered　like　prisms　and　she　lowered　her　head　so　he　would　not　see。
The　band　was　playing　catchy　fill…in　music　while　the　Honour　Society　ushers　collected　the　folded…over　ballots。　They　were　taken　to　the　chaperones'　table　by　the　door；　where　Vic　and　Mr　Stephens　and　the　Lublins　counted　them。　Miss　Geer　surveyed　it　all　with　grim　gimlet　eyes。
Carrie　felt　an　unwilling　tension　worm　into　her；　tightening　muscles　in　her　stomach　and　back。　She　held　Tommy's　hand　tightly。　It　was　absurd；　of　course。　No　one　was　going　to　vote　for　them。　The　stallion；　perhaps；　but　not　when　harnessed　in　tandem　with　a　she…ox。　It　would　be　Frank　and　Jessica　or　maybe　Don　Farnham　and　Helen　Shyres。　Or　…　hell！
Two　piles　were　growing　larger　than　the　others。　Mr　Stephens　finished　dividing　the　slips　and　all　four　of　them　took　turns　at　counting　the　large　piles；　which　looked　about　the　same。　They　put　their　heads　together；　conferred；　and　counted　once　more。　Mr　Stephens；　nodded；　thumbed　the　ballots　once　more　like　a　man　about　to　deal　a　hand　of　poker；　and　gave　them　back　to　Vic。　He　climbed　back　on　stage　and　approached　the　mike。　The　Billy　Bosman　Band　played　a　flourish。　Vic　smiled　nervously；　harrumphed　into　the　mike；　and　blinked　at　the　sudden　feedback　whine。　He　nearly　dropped　the　ballots　to　the　floor；　which　was　covered　with　heavy　electrical　cables；　and　somebody　snickered。
'We've　sort　of　hit　a　snag；'　Vic　said　artlessly。　'Mr　Lublin　says　this　is　the　first　time　in　the　history　of　the　Spring　Ball…'　'How　far　does　he　go　back？'　someone　behind　Tommy　mumbled。　'Eighteen　hundred？'
'We've　got　a　tie。'
This　got　a　murmer　from　the　crowd。　'Polka　dots　or　striped？'　George　Dawson　called；　and　there　was　some　laughter。　Vic　gave　a　twitchy　smile　and　almost　dropped　the　ballots　again。
'Sixty…three　votes　for　Frank　Grier　and　Jessica　MacLean；　and　sixty…three　votes　for　Thomas　Ross　and